


Close

by Brorito_Dorito_Daddy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Build a fort of course, But theyre around 12-14, Fluff, Homestuck Secret Santa, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Restless Dirk wants to find something to do, Sibling Incest, So fuckin fluffyyyyyyy, What do you do?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brorito_Dorito_Daddy/pseuds/Brorito_Dorito_Daddy
Summary: Dirk gets restless, but has an idea. Recruiting a sleepy Dave to construct the greatest blanket fort ever





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the Homestuck secret santa  
> You can read it also on Tumblr at https://Soft-Serve-Strider.tumblr.com/post/154904924170/close  
> (There is an art bonus there)

_“Bwo.”_ _  
_ _“Bwo.”_ _  
_ _“Bwoooo.”_ _  
_ _Dull orange eyes slowly open to meet electrified red. Full of expectancy and agitation._

_“Whaddya wan’..”_

_“The room got cold..” You feel a shift around your knees. Pressing down from on top of the covers and trapping your movement. The rustle of heavy fabric against pajama pants is the only other noise in the space. You try and lift your head to get a scope of the situation, but when you are about three inches off the pillow you collide with the face hovering over you._

_“Oouuu,” you fall back and hold your sore nose as Dave, above you, lets out a delayed yelp. You both stay still in pain and silence for a while before trying to lift yourself again. Slower this time. Dave has stopped hovering over your face to give you room to sit up. Although he hasn’t gotten off your legs, so you can’t move those._

_“What does this havfta do with me?” you mutter before he whines._

_“Fix it or somethin’...I can’ sleep like this..!” Dave’s voice squeaky as he barely manages to keep a whisper. You roll your eyes. Clearly, Dave doesn’t know what it takes to “fix something” when all you're given is “it’s cold”_

_“Fix what..?” you inquire drowsily. “Is the heater broken?”_

_“I dunno!” You wince when his pitch rises and fills the dark room. You immediately go to clasp a hand over his mouth, effectively silencing him for a moment._

_Until, he starts licking your palm._

_“Gross, bro.” You pull your hand away and wipe the drool on the fabric of his shirt. Grimacing._

_You can definitely tell that he is pouting above you, but you’re blind without your contacts. The ambient darkness isn’t helping your distinguish solid features either. You half half a mind to grope around the nightstand for your backup glasses, as dorky as they are. But Dave prompts you again._  
  
“Can...I sleep with you then?”

\---

Months later, he still has the audacity to make himself welcome in your bed.

Curled up against you, his back to your ribs. Clutching your hand to his chest as his breathing quiets and smooths out. Falling into the rhythmic rise and fall of sleep.  
  
You aren’t having the same luck as he in finding your ticket to dreamland though.  
  
After a few minutes of readjusting your head and the pillows, first nuzzling in the crook of Dave’s neck and his shoulders, to getting a faceful of pale blond hair, you just can’t seem to get comfortable.  
  
You grunt as you pry your hand from Dave’s grip, you sit up and rub your eyes. Dave sirrs below you, but you don’t really care if he wakes up now or when you would actually need him. You look down to the form that has now turned to face up at you. The full moon’s light seeping in through the window gives his inquisitive expression a silver filter. Making his eyes monotone and gray. You admit liked them better when they were the dazzling rubies of his in the soft light of a low lit room, but the silky light makes him look dreamy and peaceful.  
  
“Dir’ wazza matter…?” He mumbles. You take a few seconds to formulate an idea in your head. Making a mental note of all the reagents needed around the house and the quietest way to acquire them. Not wanting to incur the tired wrath of your big bros  
  
“You..want to make a fort?” You ask him softly. Dave’s eyes widen a bit. Like some awe-struck child experiencing the starry open sky for the first time. You hear the soft rustling of the sheets around his head as he nods.  
  
When he doesn’t move from where he lay on the bed, you start to become confused.  
  
“So…”  
  
Dave makes a small noise as he props himself up on his hands and sits upright. Facing you with a look of barely hidden excitement. You meet him with the same expression. A spark passes between you and you feel his rising glee to be motivational. Not enough so to brave the dark without your glasses, so you grab those from the nightstand and fumble to put them on before continuing.  
  
You cautiously slip out of bed. Dave hot in pursuit as you two sneak down the hall and past the master bedroom into the living room. There, you stop and adjust your eyes to the even dimmer lighting of the space before them. When the room clears up, you get right to work on picking the two sheets from the futon. Dave also nabs a fold up chair and disappears into the kitchen even to grab a handful of clothespins. When this is all gathered in one place, you stand with Dave and admire the pile. Question is…  
  
“Do you wanna erect it here or back..?”  
  
“Haha, erect.” Dave snickers childishly while you huff. You cross your arms and start again.  
  
“Where do you wanna make it, smartass.”  
  
Dave pauses and looks around. This room is somewhat cooler than theirs. Not _too_ much so, but enough to make him curl and uncurl his toes against the carpet as they become chilly.  
  
“...In the bedroom,” He finally mumbles. Staring pointedly at something in the far corner. You nod. A fair choice considering the proximity to the master bedroom is far closer here versus your bedroom. Also, it would seem much more comfortable and snug in a smaller space. You grab as many as the things from the pile as you can manage and leave Dave to break out of his reverie and get the rest. Shuffling back to your room.  
  
Once you get there, you carefully unload your haul onto your bed and wait for Dave to dump the rest. You take the folding chair from him and take in the space before you. Looking around for what to work with. Dave stands silently by your side.  
  
“Close the door,” you whisper and he rushes over to go do so. Willing to follow your commands for now, it seems.  
  
“Hrm, we could pin it to the desk and the chair of the opposite corner, but that leaves too thin a space that the pins would hold up. We need a third prop, but the beds seem too low…” You mutter aloud. Visualizing how this process will go.  
  
“You could use a broom.” Dave suggests quietly  
  
“How would we keep it up?”  
  
“Umm….”

Dave looks around again for something that could hold the pole up, but before he can suggest anything, you have already moved on and picked up your floor lamp and moved it to the fort’s site. This being suitable because of the heavy weight keeping it standing and the outstretched neck for the lamphead is perfect to pin a blanket around.

Soon after this, you both set up the rest of the blanket fort relatively quickly. Working in silence except for the occasional murmur of advice and the request to hand over some more clothespins. The fort is constructed in a matter of minutes. The sheets hang loose over top of the nest they create. The fluffiest and heaviest of blankets, and the one old quilt provide bulk to lay comfortably on the floor. When all is arranged and perfect, you crawl in and nestle in the mass, leaving enough room for Dave as he joins you in this blanket nest.

As you lay there, radiating warmth into the space, Dave frets and tosses. Trying to make himself comfortable until he turns to you with a pout.  
  
“The covers aren’t fluffy enough.”  
  
You snort with indignation. The whole purpose of putting down the heavy covers was to avoid this issue in the first place! When Dave begins to scooch closer to you, you relent and let him snuggle close to your side. Trapping you in with a well placed arm slung over your chest as you lay on your back and a leg intertwined with yours. Resigning yourself to this fate that Dave will never ever sleep without smothering you in some way ever again. You will never admit out loud that you secretly like the closeness, at least, not for a while, anyways.  
  
But when he is just so close, the feeling of comfort and satisfaction begins to rub off on you as you both settle into a rhythmic rise and fall. This could last forever, or until you get hungry or something, but you feel the point was is that Dave is _here_ with you. _Wants_ to be here with you. You got to show something in appreciation. Something to display all these feelings of warmth in your system.  
  
You raise your head a bit, which creates a disturbance where Dave lays, head nestled in the crook of your arm. Dave stirrs, looking up sleepily to find out the cause of the movement. When he does, the arm and leg sprawled over you cease to be dead weight and tense slightly. Looking up inquisitive as you take the opportunity to lean over and give him a heartfelt kiss.

  
It wasn’t either of your first kisses for sure, but this one felt as if it was all over again. Without any awkwardness of that first time, it makes it all the sweeter.

Dave makes a little squeak as your lips meet his. Soon turning into a giggle as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you into another kiss.

It’s difficult to stay connected to Dave when he keeps bursting into a fit of tittering every other second, and you give up on the matter entirely as Dave’s body trembles with the effort to suppress his laughter. When you flop onto your back again, you can hear the deep wheezing of someone attempting to control their breathing. Trying his damndest to calm down. It fails anyway.

“What’s so funny?” you say almost dismally. A disappointment creeping up your spine. The sweetness of the event already fading as even more awkwardness takes it’s place.

Dave takes a few more moments to answer.

“You kiss soft,” he finally offers you.

“Oh.” It’s not the best response, but something about the childishness and simplicity of it, makes the whole thing seem as such. Innocent sweetness. You would prefer that over awkwardness.

You settle back down in the covers as Dave resumes his former position of burrowing into your side. His previous complaint seems to at least not as bothersome, as he doesn’t complain.

So warm, so close.  
  
And that is all you need to finally drift off and fall asleep. Slowly turning over and curling around him as he clutches a handful of your shirt. Attached like a baby koala.

You dream of sweet, lovely things.


End file.
